“A real Briggs & Bolton 53½ caliber, muzzle-loading, 1854!” he exclaimed rapturously.
Mr. Gubb pushed him away with one hand.
“Go back there into range,” he said sternly. “In shooting I aim to kill, but not to blow into particles of pieces.”
“But, my dear sir!” exclaimed Mr. Witzel. “Do you know what you have there?”
“It’s a pistol gun,” said Philo Gubb. “If you don’t stand back, I’ll shoot you anyway.”
“It’s a Briggs & Bolton,” said Mr. Witzel. “That’s what it is. It is the only well-preserved specimen of Briggs & Bolton I ever saw.”
Mr. Gubb shook off the hand that clasped his arm.
“I don’t care what it is,” said Mr. Gubb. “It’s a pistol gun, and it’s bung full of powder and bullet, and when I point it at you I mean that if you make a move I’m a-going to shoot.”
“And I don’t care what you mean,” said Mr. Witzel. “It’s a Briggs & Bolton, and I warn you that you have that gun so full of powder that if you pull that trigger you’ll blow it to bits and ruin the only perfect specimen of that gun I ever saw!”